


Loony

by bansheee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Autism, Autistic Luna, Community: HPFT, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 11:29:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7101403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bansheee/pseuds/bansheee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know you're different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loony

 You know you’re different.  
  
They can never tell just by looking at you. The first years have no idea what they’re getting into when they start a conversation with you. It isn’t until they’re whisked away by new friends or old acquaintances that they hear it for the first time.  
  
_Loony._  
  
It doesn’t bother you like they say it should, but then again, you aren’t like they say you should be.  
  
You remember the first day you heard it. It was a Gryffindor boy in Charms class who whispered to the red-headed girl he shared a desk with. He was trying to impress her; you’d seen the way he looked at her in the days before.  
  
It spread around the school in a day.  
  
_Loony Luna._  
  
You see the way other students follow your line of vision as you hold a conversation. How their entertained confusion turns to short-tempered annoyance as you take an extra moment to put together your answer. You want to tell them you’re listening, but by the time you open your mouth to speak, they’re walking away. You hear the things they whisper as they do.  
  
Some Ravenclaw you are. _Wit beyond measure._  
  
They know they can get to you; they know exactly how. Everyone says kids are just mean, but they never do anything to fix it. They know you won’t react to _loony_ , so they start stealing your things. They hang your shoes from the enchanted ceiling and put your Transfiguration tome underneath the chairs in Ravenclaw Tower.  
  
You stop letting it bother you.  
  
Fourth year comes. You’ve got a compartment to yourself and you’re thrilled; you can let your thoughts go and you don’t have anyone watching you fidget with the end of your shirt. It belonged to your mother and you were finally big enough that it didn’t hang like a dress. Your father said it would make you brave but the material was stiff and it bothered your skin. Every time you touched the jewelry around your neck, you tugged uncomfortably at the garment after as you turn the page to your father’s magazine.  
  
You hear it again.  
  
_Loony Lovegood._  
  
It’s thrown out with such a casual cadence, you wonder if the youngest Weasley girl even knows your real name. You’ve shared a few classes with her, watched as she went from timid and quiet to outspoken and honest. She’s very loyal, so you often balance that with the cruel things she says.  
  
You recognize one of the boys she’s with right away. You watch him and catalog the differences in your own assumptions. He seems awkward in a way that’s unlike you, like he’s uncomfortable with the entire situation at hand.  
  
You exchange words with the three in the seat across from you and bring the magazine back up. You can hear Ginny’s stifled laughter; you let it bounce off of you as you pull at your shirt again. You touch the smooth page of your magazine and read.  
  
After the interaction with all five Gryffindors, you think about the way you laughed for days. You remember the way they looked at you about your overreaction. _You’re taking the mickey._  
  
_This isn’t normal._  
  
_Loony._  
  
You think about Harry’s reaction to the Thestrals.  
  
Fourth year goes by and some things change and some things don’t. People still steal your belongings. You befriend Ginny. You’re surprised when she starts to defend you, instead of taking part in the mocking.  
  
You fly on a Thestral to the Ministry of Magic.  
  
It’s the end of term feast, but you’re alone. Their games are over for another summer; you need your things back.  
  
You watch the expression on Harry’s face fall to pity, and it doesn’t get to you. You know Harry isn’t looking down to you; he sees you as an equal. He’s sad about his godfather and worried about the war. You wish your friend a good holiday.  
  
_Luna._

**Author's Note:**

> This story is also posted on harrypotterfanfiction.com under the penname banshee.


End file.
